


The Shortest Distance Between Two People

by bloodfever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Combeferre is a nerd with a lot of feelings, Courfeyrac is entirely ridiculous, M/M, PWP, almost entirely devoid of plot, or very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3308867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodfever/pseuds/bloodfever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac is laughing so hard he has ceased even making a sound.  When he regains the ability to breathe, he lowers his hand to help Combeferre back up onto the bed.  “Get back up here, you nerd.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shortest Distance Between Two People

The thing is, _the thing is_ , Combeferre has _no idea_ what is going on. 

Courfeyrac had been over all afternoon, they had marathoned the latest Brian Cox documentary series, and Combeferre had been so unsettled by the end conclusion (“ _how can he say_ that we are probably the only similarly advanced life in the universe, Courf, how can he be so _irresponsible_?”) that Courfeyrac had marched him into the kitchen, handed him a mixing bowl, and begged Combeferre to make him cookies.

Courfeyrac always knows exactly how to handle these little crises, knows what Combeferre needs to put his thoughts in order. Combeferre knows when he is being “handled”, but he also knows that he should bow to Courfeyrac’s wisdom in this area. Its #73 on a list hidden in a notebook titled “Reasons I Suspect I Might Actually Be In Love With My Best Friend”.

Combeferre was whisking some egg whites, trying to talk through his disappointment (“ _when you consider the statistics alone…”_ ), pausing only to ask Courfeyrac to pass him the caster sugar.  One minute, Courfeyrac had been draped across several of their dining chairs staring up at the ceiling in contemplation, the next Combeferre had turned and Courfeyrac was _right there_ crowding into his personal space and reaching up to wipe a smudge of flour off Combeferre's cheek. 

Combeferre flushed slightly at the contact, opening his mouth to ask if Courfeyrac was alright, when Courfeyrac rose up slowly onto tiptoe and caught the question in a very soft kiss.

They stood in the kitchen trading gentle kisses, baking long since forgotten, neither wanting to speak beyond a whispered _"is this okay?"_ and an emphatic _"yes"_ in case they shattered the bubble they had created.  Somehow, and Combeferre really has no recollection of _how_ , they had moved first to the couch - ' _they were_ making out _now,'_ Combeferre thought giddily, ' _there is really no other appropriate term for it_ ' - and then to Combeferre's bed.  
  
Combeferre's brain was screaming at him to stop, to wait, to consider the consequences, but his heart was singing and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.  For the first and possibly _only_ time in his life, Combeferre was determined to ignore his brain and go with his instincts.  Instincts which involved kissing down Courfeyrac’s jaw, pausing to nip first just behind his ear, and then just beside his laryngeal prominence, to spend some time sucking a dark bruise down low on his neck, and press a series of hot, opened mouthed kisses to Courfeyrac’s suprasternal notch.  Combeferre began nuzzling his way down Courfeyrac’s side, taking long moments to focus on Courfeyrac’s fourth rib, the crease defining his obliques, his hip.  Combeferre is just ghosting towards the left when he starts to tremble slightly, and the next thing Courfeyrac feels is Combeferre…is he _humming_? against Courfeyrac’s  inguinal ligament.

"Um, Ferre?" Courfeyrac asks, confused.  

Combeferre just giggles and holds up his finger to indicate he needs a moment.  Taking a deep breath he begins to sing "the hip bone’s connected to the…thigh bone.  the thigh bone’s connected to the…leg bone.  the leg bone’s connected to the…" and he can’t finish through his laughter.  He is laughing so hard, in fact, that he loses his balance and rolls right off the edge of the bed. Sitting up, and laughing even harder now, Combeferre tries to look apologetic.  “I’m sorry, that wasn’t very sexy.”

Courfeyrac is laughing so hard he has ceased even making a sound.  When he regains the ability to breathe, he lowers his hand to help Combeferre back up onto the bed.  “Get back up here, you nerd.”  

Positioned back comfortably pressed against each other, Courfeyrac inches forward and kisses Combeferre thoroughly.  “If the musical interlude is over, I believe we were in the middle of something.”

Suddenly, it doesn’t seem quite so funny to Combeferre. Their legs are tangled together, hips pressed flush to each other, both of them making tiny movements forward seeking more pressure, neither willing to let themselves just go for it quite yet. Courfeyrac’s hands slide smoothly down Combeferre’s back, pulling around his hips and slipping ever-so-gently under the waistband of his underwear.

Courfeyrac moved his face back just far enough to allow him to focus on Combeferre’s face. “Would you like me to touch your member?” Courfeyrac said with an exaggerated seductive purr and a waggling of his eyebrows. Combeferre spluttered for a moment, horrified, but then it all clicked into place and he chuckled, low and fond. Courfeyrac wasn’t going to be put off, however. “No? What about your Love Stick? Rod? Manhood?”

Combeferre had just began to groan and roll his eyes when Courfeyrac’s hand wrapped around Combeferre’s shaft, shifting downwards and ending in a _twist_ which had Combeferre’s eyes fluttering closed and his groan vaporize into a gasp.

Combeferre wrapped his arms around Courfeyrac and tipped them over, settling himself over Courfeyrac and grinding down with deliberate intent. Courfeyrac leaned up as far as he can to crash their mouths together. They are both _so close_ and coordination is essentially impossible so they end up simply breathing into each other, fingers of each hand laced together held above their heads, moving rhythmically until Combeferre comes with a soft cry. Courfeyrac follows almost immediately after, clinging to Combeferre and panting until the sparks under his skin begin to fade.

Combeferre smiles to himself, brushes the curls away from Courfeyrac’s forehead, and says “I’m in love with you” before he has even realised he was going to speak.

His eyes widen and he immediately flies into damage control mode. “I realize you don’t feel the same way and I don’t want this to change our friendship, can we please just forget that I-” he is cut off abruptly by Courfeyrac covering Combeferre’s mouth with his hand.

“ _Combeferre_ ,” Courfeyrac says with feigned exasperation. “I am obviously stupidly in love with you. The aliens you are so confident exist can see it. _Enjolras_ could see it. How can you not see it?”

Combeferre is trying to speak, but the sound is completely muffled behind Courfeyrac’s hand. “I’m sorry, Combeferre, did you want to say something?” Courfeyrac says with a smile, decidedly _not_ removing his hand. There is only one appropriate response to that. Combeferre narrows his eyes and sticks out his tongue, covering Courfeyrac’s entire palm in saliva.

Courfeyrac squeaks in surprise, removing his hand and wiping it on Combeferre’s sheet. “I will get you for that!” Courfeyrac growls.

“Promise?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a "prompt" by ghost-grantaire on tumblr:
> 
> "will somebody please please please write me fluffy, nerdy, adorable courferre sex. like where they tell bad jokes through foreplay and then have to stop for a minute because they’re laughing so hard stuff like that please please, i will love you forever sooooo much"
> 
> It didn't turn out quite like that, feelings kept getting in the way, but I tried.
> 
> Unbetad. Obviously.
> 
> Title from Victor Borge: “Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.”
> 
> ( I'm prometheusatthebarricade on tumblr, come say hi :D )


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